


Dreaming

by JamtheDingus



Series: Hunk Ship Week, 2018 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Fast Ignite, Human Sacrifice, Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Outer Space, Romance, So Much Touching, Touching, Underwater, What's the opposite of slow burn, but like not really, day 2: magic/supernatural, hunkshipweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 21:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15227982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: For Hunk Ship Week, Day 2: Magic / Supernatural-Hunk wheezes in surprise, probably in what’s meant to be a laugh. “You want to get to knowme? A plain old human boy?”“Yes.” Shiro leans closer, staring directly into Hunk’s soul. His fingers stray to Hunk’s makeup, seemingly before he can stop himself, and they rub along the paints staining his skin as he says, “There’s no one I’ve been interested in more.”Shiro has been called many things in his eternal life, but he’s never been called a liar. He’d seen Hunk before— seen everyone and everything before, actually— but now, decorated and docile before him in sheer robes and adorning his sigils? He wasn’t just interested, he wassmitten.---Shiro is an ancient god, and Hunk is his sacrifice.





	Dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> i go WILD with the metaphors here 
> 
> Also, I really barely proofread this at all..... please pardon my errors <3

“You don’t have to do this.” Pidge says to him, just as the dawn begins to settle. He’s surrounded by faceless people, or atleast it feels that way with how little they _look_ at him, so he focuses on nothing but her. Heavy makeup is traced across his eyelids, golden lines echoing the whisper of sun beams that paint his skin.

His lips are doused even heavier in it, shinier still, and he tries not to mess up the hard work everyone went through to make him pretty as he says, “I kinda have to.”

He reaches over with his free hand, the one not dipped in oil and painted with intricate patterns, pressing their palms together. “If all goes well, you’ll see me next week.”

Someone harrumphs behind him, and he hears a mimicking, condescending, “ _If all goes well._ ”

Which was fair. Truly, if all went well, he’d be gone before the end of the day, snatched up by greedy gods who demanded their prize. It wasn’t often someone was chosen to be sacrificed, only one every few years, and even less often that people disappeared.

But, when those years pass and someone never returns, the crops are always abundant and plentiful, and the village prospers. If all goes well.

Pidge’s eyes are wet, but tears don’t fall past her clumped eyelashes as his hand is plucked away to be painted to match the rest of him.

It’s because of her that he’s here.

Not purposefully, of course. He’d volunteered, after she was called upon by the village head to take over the duty as the chosen. She came to him, terrified not just for herself but for her family.

Ever since Matt had gotten taken, she’s the only one left in her family that was spritely enough to make money. Her father was deeply ill, always, and her mother struggled enough with the despair she felt in her heart after losing one child.

Hunk had come to the village alone as a child, not necessarily abandoned but it felt that way sometimes. But he didn’t have people depending on him as much as Pidge did. It was only natural.

Hunk never considered himself to be the brave type— and in fact, his stomach was trying to claw its way through his gut as he sat on the throne that may just as well been his crypt— but he put on a mask to broadcast as much for her.

His head is jerked away, breaking their gaze prematurely, and he feels himself blush as his robes are tugged away so they can mark the rest of him, exposing him completely nude. Pidge hardly batters an eye, but she does turn away for decency’s sake.

“I’ll miss you.” She says, after a quiet moment of listening to the faceless group swarm around him like flies homing in on a rotting carcass. His hair is tugged from scalp to root, forced straight by a fire-hot comb. “I’ll keep your house clean.”

“Thank you.” Hunk says, honestly. “If I don’t come back…” He hears Pidge’s sharp inhale, but he continues over her with, “You can have all my stuff. Even the stuff I pretend to hide.”

“Not like I haven’t snooped through it anyway, like you do me.” Pidge gripes. Neither of them mentions the way she sniffles, wiping at her nose with her short sleeves.

It was nearing fall, the perfect time for crops to flourish before winter hits hard, but the weather was unforgiving. Hot and sticky with mist from morning to noon and on, it more often than not led to people wandering to the nearest body of water and floating until they pruned like sour grapes.

Hunk supposes he should be thankful that he’s expected to be naked, then, instead of wrapped in layers and layers of heavy, uncomfortably ornate robes and gowns. He’d cling to little mercies like that until this entire thing passed.

And really, this was a good thing. If best came to best, he’d be pampered all week long and then, better still, taken care of for the rest of his life. The chosen ‘few’ were never abandoned by the village, as per tradition.

Really, it would have been a more fought over position if not for the even rarer few that disappear.

 

\---

 

Pidge is dismissed out of the room that has nothing more than a stone throne. She would have gone kicking and screaming if she hadn’t been asleep after sitting with him for nearly seven hours.

Hunk watches her get carried off, but his gut instincts tell him that she’s going to be just fine. As for himself, however…

The caretakers position him down to the hair on his arms, giving him a sharp slap on the thigh if he even twitches his nose. It’s uncomfortable and demeaning, and the tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but he sucks it up because he does _not_ want to sit through getting his makeup redone.

He’s draped in silk, wrapped to be enticingly teasing across his lap and his shoulders, but he feels like he’s drowning in delicate threads. It doesn’t help that he’d been bathed in oil for so long that his bones feel like jelly. He could hardly smell anything other than the overpowering florals meant to last for the rest of the week.

A caretaker pins his hair too tightly to his head, the final decoration to the centerpiece that Hunk was. It nearly overwhelms him, and his fingers twitch to rip it out and run off into the forest, but he somehow convinces himself to stay put.

The group leaves, silent enough that he doesn’t realize it’s happened until his heartbeat fades into the quiet and he’s left alone with nothing but the faint drip of water from the nearby pool.

Hunk rolls his neck, vindictively satisfied when he feels a lock of hair fall out of place.

He hadn’t realized that the quiet would be the worst part of this, but it’s only five days. Five days of being a living doll for a greedy god and his self-proclaimed lackeys.

He grips the armrest of his throne and lets his eyes flutter shut.

Just five days.

 

\---

That first night, Hunk disappears.

\---

 

He blinks just once, it feels like, but everything changes.

Hunk rolls over, realizing that he’s in a bed rather than on a stone slab, and the pillows pull him in to their sinful embrace of woven satin and fluffed feathers.

The room he’s in is something fit for royalty, grand and tall. The windows are layers with thick glass, but they’re somehow warm to the touch when he pads over to look out of them.

He’s on some sort of island, he thinks at first, until he realizes that the rolling blue he sees isn’t an ocean, but the sky itself. Clouds circle past him, misting the ground with dew, and Hunk feels faint.

He sees a city, off to the left. It’s far enough away that he can’t make out all of the details, but everything looks to be outlined in royal starlight, and Hunk is sure he’s lost it.

He’s still dressed as he was before he… was kidnapped? The shawls cling to his skin as he starts to nervously sweat all over, but his makeup doesn’t run. He takes an unsteady step across the plush carpet, and he can’t resist wiggling his toes against the soft fuzz that gathers between them.

He stumbles to the door, like a newborn deer seeking freedom.

The hallway is just as grand as the room, sconces lining every stone and illuminating them in rainbow hues, but Hunk doesn’t get a chance to focus on them because he runs directly into another person as soon as he steps out.

He stumbles, but the other catches him before he can fall. A chill cuts through him as he takes in the skin, and he suddenly feels like a lonely figure alone in the dark in the middle of a freezing winter.

His vision blurs, but he doesn’t realize that they’re tears until the person— the god— in front of him wipes them away.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He’s told. “I would have given you more warning.”

“Um.” Hunk starts, focusing on the dark hand that releases its hold on him. He swears he sees stars dancing across those fingertips before they fade into the pale skin, further up the forearms.

He belatedly realizes the god is missing an arm, then.

“Um.” Hunk repeats, head jerking to look him in the eye. “Did I die?”

“No.” The amused god assures, hooking his arm in Hunk’s to lead him down the hall. “Nobody dies here.”

“Oh.”

Hunk pauses, going green around the edges, and the rest is a blur.

 

\---

 

He learns that 1) he truly isn’t dead and 2) Shiro chose him to be his sacrifice.

“More of a gift, I’d like to think.” Shiro murmurs, running his thumb across the curves of Hunk’s cheeks after his nausea has passed and his skin isn’t as pale.

He was carried, and yes that is literal despite the god missing a limb, to a nearby pasture— a plateau of sorts that overlooked the entire kingdom. The grand city Hunk had seen from his window was apparently one of three, and each was overlooked by a different god. It went completely over Hunk’s head, or maybe he didn’t want to focus too much on the logistics of it.

He focuses, instead, on Shiro. Takashi Shirogane, the technical ruler of his entire village, that preferred to be known as Shiro because it made him feel less intimidating despite the gnarled scars running up his half-arm and the wide expanse of his shoulders.

Shiro watches him in return. He doesn’t say much, that introspective type. It makes Hunk nervous to have his every move watched, but Shiro has a gentle look on his face, so maybe it isn’t all bad.

“So… I’m not dead. I’m your gift? So, like a concubine or something?”

Shiro snorts— a god, snorting!— and quickly shakes his head. “Not at all, unless that’s what you choose to be.”

He tilts his head, dropping onto his knees besides where Hunk was curled in the grass. He has wings, Hunk realizes, that only show when the sun is directly behind him. They’re transparent like snowflakes, reflecting light, and they look just as fragile.

“I chose for you to come to this realm because I’m interested in you.” Shiro confesses. “I’m the selfish type, you see. I’d like to get to know you better.”

Hunk wheezes in surprise, probably in what’s meant to be a laugh. “You want to get to know _me_? A plain old human boy?”

“Yes.” Shiro leans closer, staring directly into Hunk’s soul. His fingers stray to Hunk’s makeup, seemingly before he can stop himself, and they rub along the paints staining his skin as he says, “There’s no one I’ve been interested in more.”

Shiro has been called many things in his eternal life, but he’s never been called a liar. He’d seen Hunk before— seen everyone and everything before, actually— but now, decorated and docile before him in sheer robes and adorning his sigils? He wasn’t just interested, he was _smitten_.

Hunk regards him cautiously, as if he’s seeing every bad ending play behind his eyelids when he blinks, but Shiro hurries to assuage his fears with a gentle touch to his hand and a, “As agreed, your village will prosper. I’ll send someone to bless the crops soon.”

Unfortunately, that seems to have the opposite effect he’s hoping for. Hunk’s eyes grow sad, wet at the corners, and he mumbles to himself, “So I really can’t go back?”

It hurts his heart to hear that, but Shiro is understanding. He’s a selfish god, yes, but not a cruel one.

He stands, tugging Hunk to his side, where he belongs. Then, he opens a portal, laying out the entrance to his temple. “I won’t keep you here if that’s truly what you wish.” Shiro says to him, pressing into his space until they’re chest to chest. “But also know that I won’t let you go that easily.”

He feels the mild onset of panic thrumming across Hunk’s skin, so he backs off with a disarming smile. “Let’s make a deal.”

He’d always been known to be a clever god, too.

 

\---

 

Hunk feels himself wake up, startlingly sudden. The hills are alight with the rising sun, and the sunbeams are warm against his freezing toes as his senses come back to him one by one.

He can see his caretakers’ shadows crawling across the wall like lizards, and Hunk is sure he must not have been gone long at all.

The glittery gold on his lips is smudged out of place, he can see from the mirrors lining the walls, and he can faintly remember Shiro’s thumbs smearing across it when they’d first met. He can still feel his touch, actually, omnipresent as if Shiro is just waiting for him off to the side.

It makes him nervous, but not in the way he was expecting. His heart jitters in his chest, nervous like someone confessing their love with a spring love letter.

Pidge is with the caretakers, Hunk can hear. She’s arguing to come in, from her tone, and Hunk fondly shakes his head. He couldn’t bear to leave her alone in this little village. Not that she would be truly alone, not with her mother and father who care for her so dearly.

Hunk remembers Shiro’s deal then, a gentle reminder from the god himself, probably.

“Fall in love with me before the week ends,” Shiro whispered, and it felt much like the moon eclipsing the sun. “And you must stay here.”

He’d circled around Hunk’s back, clawed fingers tilting Hunk’s chin up to have him look at the clouds. “If you’re able to resist, I’ll let you go with a wish of your choice for wasting your time.”

It sounds like a trick— too much of a win-win for Hunk and not for Shiro, but it isn’t like he has many options being a mortal toy in a god’s hands. And Hunk’s betraying heart actually _trusts_ him, too, to keep his word.

Hunk keeps it a secret from Pidge, just in case.

 

\---

The second night, Hunk is taken again.

\---

 

A bundle of wildflowers is placed in his hands, tied delicately together with a wrap of ribbon. The long grasses tickle his fingertips as he sniffs at the pollen in the center, only to sneeze a cloud of it away.

Shiro grins at him, pleased at the flushed, wide-eyed look Hunk gives him. “I learned this is something your kind does. Flowers for their beloved.”

One couldn’t blame Hunk for the dopey smile that stretches his lips, not when Shiro bashfully tucks one of the dandelions behind Hunk’s ear. If he squints, he could swear that the god was actually _blushing_ a bit, around the edges.

“Thank you.” Hunk breathes, fingering the soft petals against his thumb. “These are lovely.”

It’s on the tip of Shiro’s tongue to relay those same sentiments back at him, what with Hunk decorated the way he was. Gold jewels wrapped around his limbs, tinkling when the charms clink together, and his hair is tied up and dipped purple. That always had been Shiro’s favorite color.

He holds off, though, because humans do these things slowly.

“If I may?” Shiro offers his hand, the only he’s got, and takes Hunk out on a date.

 

\---

 

Shiro takes him to dance with the stars, first. The sun hums in the plentiful space between them, but Shiro keeps him steady as Hunk is spun on Saturn’s rings.

Hunk can’t tell his fingers from the stardust, but that doesn’t matter when Shiro shows him a triage of growing galaxies in the distance, glowing with colors that Hunk didn’t even know existed.

He’d never been one for travel, much too motion-sick to even joke with the idea, but he feels completely at peace millions of miles away from ground, merging with the universe itself.

Shiro brings him back before he disappears within the universe with a simple touch to his back, pulling him close.

“May I?” Shiro asks, quiet and loud. Hunk has no clue what he’s asking, but he agrees nonetheless.

The stars get replaced with jellyfish and the space gets replaced by cold water and a faint pressure on his bones. It isn’t uncomfortable, and Hunk isn’t drowning, but that doesn’t stop the mild fright Hunk feels when he realizes.

Shiro, ever so touchy, crowds in close so that they can drift together. “I’ve got you.”

Hunk had never learned to swim— never was old enough before he was trapped in a landlocked village, but Shiro is patient enough.

The fish seem unafraid of them as they swim pass in their groups, circling curiously to nip at Hunk’s fingers. They leave Shiro alone, for some reason, choosing to pick at the mortal boy who couldn’t get himself to stay floating on his front instead of his back.

Shiro laughs at him, and it’s an incredibly nice expression for him to have, in Hunk’s opinion. “Like this.”

He loops around Hunk to pick over his form, teasingly running his fingers down his spine just to see him shiver. “I should have asked if you knew how to swim before I brought you here.”

“Would’ve been a nice warning.” Hunk agrees, flopping onto the seafloor. A plume of sand puffs around him, disrupting the sandcrabs that hurry to run off. “But I don’t mind it. I’ve never been somewhere like this.”

He rolls over onto his side, lifting a few inches off the sandbed before floating back down again, and he runs his fingers across briny kelp that threatens to tickle his nose like the pollen did. A jawfish peeks at him from its burrow, but it runs off as Hunk passes his fingers across the hole it makes.

None of it feels real, and deep down it probably isn’t, but he feels himself getting overwhelmed nonetheless. The unending space around them— both of stars and jellyfish— is too close and too far, and—

Just as he sits up with the first panicked breath of many, he’s back in the room he’d started. Shiro sits on the bed with him, worriedly chewing his lip as his hand hovers the space above Hunk’s chest.

“I’m sorry. Humans aren’t meant to experience things so quickly.” Shiro climbs fully onto the bed, and Hunk realizes that it must _not_ have been real because neither of them are dripping wet. “It’s so strange to me, that you live so long but experience so little of your universe.”

And really, Hunk would be offended on behalf of mankind if he wasn’t drained by his sudden existential crisis.

Shiro kisses his forehead, cautiously careful. “My apologies, Hunk.” And then, much like their first meeting, he wipes away the gathered tears blinding him.

Hunk squints at Shiro, suspicious all at once. “Why are you doing this?”

Shiro looks like he wants to play coy, at first, but his shoulders drop and he pulls his hand back to give Hunk his space. “I love you.”

The confession is so sudden and out of the blue that Hunk nearly jumps out of his skin. He _does_ jump off of the bed, gathering his robes just to give his hands something to do. “ _Why_? You hardly know me.”

Shiro seems confused at the question. “I know enough. I know the type of person you are.”

“That’s not how it works.” Hunk says, exasperated. “Love is supposed to be slow— you wake one day after years and you realize that you never want to leave the other person’s side. That sort of thing.”

And really, that’s a lie.

Hunk couldn’t count on four hands the amount of times people have run through their village, wind-flushed and enamored with their partners as they search for a place to be eloped. Most of them had hardly known one another for maybe six months.

Hunk has a right to want things to be slow, though. Right? Right.

Shiro frowns then. Not angry, but introspective. He stands to Hunk’s height, just a few inches more, and tilts his head up so that they can look one another in the eye. It seems to be something he likes doing.

“Gods aren’t supposed to fall in love at all.” He says, finally.

Shiro is a fantastic creature. He’s translucent, almost, but his missing hand is replaced with nothing more than space itself. His wings match, and if Hunk could reach up and palm his scalp, he would probably find horns there, too.

But, besides that, he’s face is soft and his eyes are open. With the expression he has now, lips slightly parted, dark eyes darker when they’re half-lidded, Hunk feels helpless.

His touch is gentle, fingers sliding lower and lower down Hunk’s body until they catch themselves at his hip, and Hunk is pulled in by it.

He’s sure, for the longest, that Shiro is going to close the distance between them and kiss him on the lips— he _wants_ that to happen— but they break apart.

“Let me take you home.” Shiro murmurs, urging Hunk towards the door. “I’ll do better next time.”

The door opens, not to the hallway but through a mirror in the temple, and Hunk feels oddly disappointed.

When Hunk hesitates, Shiro gives him the most charming of smiles and says, “I’ll listen to what you said. Don’t forget to come back tomorrow.”

Hunk isn’t even sure of how to get back on his own, but he nods anyway.

 

\---

 

He tells Pidge immediately what happened.

“I don’t know if what he wants from me is what he says, but…” Hunk sighs. “He’s sweet.”

Pidge’s eyebrows disappear behind her messy bangs. “The god that you were sacrificed to is sweet.”

She’s taking it rather well, in all honesty. Hunk isn’t sure he’d be as calm as she seemed, if the roles were opposite. “What do you think I should do, Pidge? I’m falling in love with him, probably, but if that happens, I’m going to have to leave.”

“There’s nothing for you here, Hunk.” Pidge sighs. She steps between the pillars that he isn’t allowed to pass, the ones that act as entrance to the temple, and she hooks her hands on her hips as she looks him straight in the eye.

“You’re here.” He mumbles, sulkily if not for the serious situation.

She rolls her eyes, exaggerated in a way that he knows is just to make him feel better— but it works. “Who am I to stand in the way of a god and his lover?”

She leads him further into the temple, familiar with it even though she didn’t want to be. Her fingers trace the engravings on the throne as she plops down on it, and Hunk sits on the ground beside her. That’s how it probably would have been, with her dressed up and taken away, if he hadn’t stolen her place.

“I convinced Ma that it’s best we leave this place.” Pidge says, after they get settled. “Right before this entire thing happened— when I didn’t even know I was gonna get picked. She’s all for it.”

She shakes her head, pulling her legs to cross in the seat. “We’re not going to be here much longer, Hunk. Once we get enough money for a cart, we’re grabbing everything we can and we’re leaving in the middle of the night.”

Hunk is struck, then, with a thought. Shiro had promised that if Hunk went with him, the town would be blessed— the crops would flourish, the town would thrive. Pidge would be able to get enough money with odd jobs alone, probably.

“I see that look on your face.” Pidge says, squinting at him like she does when she knows he’s doing something he shouldn’t be.

“I’ll handle everything, Pidge.” Hunk promises. “I know you and your family will be able to get out of here before the next season.”

“And what about you and the mistress?”

Hunk grimaces at the phrasing, and by the cheeky grin on Pidge’s face, he knows she did it on purpose.

 

\---

Shiro doesn’t come for him that night. Even after Hunk has steeled himself long after Pidge has gone, and has paced the entire temple to tire himself out to fall asleep and meet with him, Shiro never comes.

Hunk doesn’t sleep well.

\---

 

That next morning, when Hunk looks at himself in the mirror, he finds Shiro looking back at him, instead.

“I know your plan.” Shiro says, after Hunk’s startled yell. Immediately, Hunk is on edge, taking a hesitant step away, even though Shiro isn’t even in the same realm as him.

Shiro looks defeated behind the glass, shoulders dropping. “I’m not angry at you.” But obviously upset, nonetheless. His eyes are heavy with heartbreak, and Hunk feels his own heart cracking down the middle just from that. “I understand why you would want to do it.”

Hunk can’t seem to get his voice to work immediately, and he must take too long to respond, because Shiro continues on with, “Our deal is rescinded.” He looks dull— no longer shaped with stars, but instead edged with opaque black. “I never meant for you to feel trapped.”

A greedy, selfish god, but not a cruel one.

“Shiro.” Hunk presses his hand against the glass, and it’s just as cold as that first touch they shared. “I… didn’t mean it like that.”

Shiro, somehow, is able to smile at him. “I know you didn’t.” It’s sad, a tad watery, but he’s resolute as he says, “I admire you a great amount, Hunk. No matter what’s happened. I will keep up my end of the deal— granting you the wish of letting your town prosper.”

He waves a hand— and nothing immediate happens, but Hunk can feel the magic thrumming through the wind.

“Good luck, my love.”

And then, he’s gone.

 

\---

 

Hunk is left alone for that entire day, excluding the caretakers who don’t talk to him. It leaves him with plenty time to feel _terrible_ , with enough to spare to think about a solution.

The caretakers are slow, with more than half the week finished. Tomorrow would be the last time for a few seasons that they would have to take care of a person instead of the temple, and they seem bored of their duty.

By the time they leave, the sun has set and Hunk’s toes are pruny with lavender oil. He waits longer, though, because if he gets caught he’s going to get in astronomical amounts of trouble.

When the moon is high, and most of the lights are out in the nearby homes, Hunk sneaks past the temple gates and out into the forest, towards Pidge’s house.

Rocks and twigs dig uncomfortable into the soles of his feet, what with him being barefoot, but he trudges on until the path smooths to stone and he can see the furnace outside of Pidge’s house burning low with dying embers.

 

\---

 

She’s surprised to see him, especially trying to sneak through her window once she comes in from bringing fresh water from the nearby spring.

She’s less surprised to hear what happened. More irritated.

“ _Hunk_.” She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her glasses aren’t in the way, half-melted after she’d accidentally dropped them in her smithy.

Hunk is curled up in her bed, looking much like a kicked street puppy. She sighs for the tenth time that half-hour, lighting the oil lamp on her desk.

“I don’t know much about what’s going on.” She confesses. “I don’t know anything about gods, or magic, or _love_ , or anything like that. But even so, I know that you’re kinda messing up your own chances here.”

She hops onto the bed beside him. “Don’t you go making yourself unhappy, Hunk. Not for my sake, or anyone else’s. I already have a plan to get out of here, and if you stay and _I’m_ gone, what’s going to be the point?”

It makes him feel better and worse at the same time.

“Now I’m taking you back to that temple, and you’re going to kick and fuss until that ornery god-suitor of yours comes back and takes you on a honeymoon.”

 

\---

 

One would think, upon seeing Hunk in the middle of the day— of the final day as ‘sacrifice’— that he would hurry to call upon Shiro and fix everything and, if all goes well, have his happily ever after.

But he’s scared. There’s no guarantee that anything he says will fix it, or make Shiro feel better, and he’s not even sure if his own feelings are true or not.

Hunk knows, though, deep down, that he wants to be with Shiro.

He crosses his arms and then uncrosses them. Follows the length of the room to the left, and then back to the right.

It’s all just to kill time, or maybe his own body is having fun watching his heart and brain torture one another.

Eventually, he leans his forehead against one of the mirrors and heaves a sigh that fogs the glass. “Shiro…”

He hears a whisper of his name start on the window before he sees Shiro appear before him. “Hunk.”

He doesn’t look much better than Hunk feels, if he’s being honest, but he’s still a stunning figure, and Hunk ignores his nerves for once and trudges forward with, “I’m sorry.”

Shiro flinches at the words, pulling back. His image fades, but Hunk steps forward as if he could physically step through to pull him back.

“Wait! Just, let me say something?” Hunk rests his hand against Shiro’s jaw, tracing the skin as if they were actually touching. Shiro’s eyes flutter shut as if he could actually feel it. “Please?”

Shiro’s eyes stay shut, but he nods his assent.

“I’m not sure if I’m… _in love_ with you.” He starts. “I’ve never been in love. Romantically. But I’m willing to try, with you.”

He feels a shift in the room, magic curling around his peripheries, but he continues on when Shiro’s eyes— languid grey instead of black— open. “You’re a very charming god.” Hunk says, cheeks heating. “And incredibly pretty. I’m not sure what I can offer, but… I’m offering what I can.”

Shiro seems stumped at the confession, stumbling past the second half. His eyes are wide with surprise, stance guarded, but he looks pleased anyway.

Hunk blinks, and he’s in Shiro’s castle. Shiro’s arm comes to wrap around his shoulders, squeezing him tight as Shiro softly confesses, “I was hoping I would get to see you again. I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon, with such… _pretty_ words.”

He’s _shy_ , Hunk realizes. His cheeks are dusted pink, he’s nervously fiddling with his hair when he pulls away, and he can hardly look Hunk in the eye. It’s incredible how such a romantic soul, who literally brought Hunk to see the heavens themselves, could be so bashful.

Hunk’s laugh comes out as a snort that startles Shiro, who hurries to say, “I think that you’re _also_ pretty, of course. Beautiful. And kind, and— perfect.”

Just like that, all of Hunk’s preconceived notions of Shiro are gone, and he’s mesmerized by the man before him.

He presses a kiss against Shiro’s cheek, partly to save him from rambling himself into a puddle. “Can we start over? Before I messed up.”

And Shiro is a greedy god, a selfish god, a lonely god. But forever and always would he be a kind one.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so similar to something i'm already writing, it's basically an au of an au
> 
> please check out hunk ship week [here](http://hunkshipweek.tumblr.com/)!


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